The last several months of last year, I started having increasing shoulder pain and neck pain and had to stop doing the pushups I’ve been doing for years to maintain my lower back. I finally went to neck/orthopedic doctor about it (my primary care doctor retired which complicated things). He sent me for another neck MRI (last one was two years ago, yes neck is worse now) and had me come back later for an ultrasound on my shoulder (no tears or anything, but thickening/stiffening of some tissues, noticeable ‘wear and tear’ on others, etc). He said, “Well, I’d recommend physical therapy, or a shot in the shoulder and then physical therapy.” I opted for the shot, and Dr’s eyes lit up and he called the assistant with the ultrasound back in. Three soap scrubs on the shoulder, two alcohol, one local anesthetic shot, and then an ultrasound-guided horse needle into the core of my shoulder — a bit more involved than your standard immunization.

I was slightly discomfited by the nonchalance (and/or the apparent glee) with which this preparation and execution occurred. I was more discomfited by having a large tube of metal jabbed into my shoulder socket.

My shoulder felt uncomfortable and touchy for about 24 hours, and since then has felt noticeably better. I’ve been to PT three times and have been doing my exercises at home pretty responsibly. Neck started flaring up again this week. Stay tuned for the next installment in the ongoing saga of snaotheus’ skeletal system’s attempts to wrest control of his body from his brain.

Chilkat’s school held a math and science open house. They had stations of various activities spread throughout a couple of rooms. Chilkat spent a bunch of time on the “build a bridge out of straws and tape” activity, and “build a tower out of blocks” activity, and sort of skipped around to the other ones. Chilkoot tagged along. I think they had a good time.

Kids have been playing pretend more, and often with more detailed and involved stories:

  • There’s a picture in there of Chilkat with a Captain America shield and a witch hat. She tells me she was pretending she was a super hero with a costume on so that her enemies wouldn’t kill her.
  • They were pretending to run a store (again). Cookie Monster was their customer. He seemed to need a lot of things and have a lot of money.
  • Chilkoot wanted to be an astronaut knight. We dressed him up. He refused to allow me to call him astroknight. I was disappointed.

I had a very hectic pair of weeks with guests from Japan. At least one of the groups of them had a rough trip out here. They had 20cm of snow drop on Narita (roughly the same or greater level of panic than would be introduced by 9-10″ dropping on SEATAC).

During their visit, we went for a big dinner at a local Chinese seafood restaurant. We ordered a lobster (we were introduced to the lobster before he was boiled). Not much of the lobster got eaten, and most of the leftovers ended up getting sent home with me. I didn’t know what the hell to do with it, so I had a giant lobster scramble for breakfast the next day. It was pretty good.

We took the kids ice skating. Chilkat’s second time, Chilkoot’s first. Chilkat was dramatically afraid, as she is wont to be, and Chilkat was falling down constantly. KrisDi hit on some key advice — just crouch. It keeps the kids from leaning back, and when a kid on ice skates leans back, it’s all over. But, it doesn’t solve the motion problem. I was able to address that with “Just sneak, Chilkoot.” With enough tiny little steps, he could get a little momentum going. But, the boy in particular loved skating, and wanted (at least for a day afterwards) to do nothing but skate some more.

False Alarm M (the older daughter) had her birthday party. She wanted to have a princess tea party, which led to the discovery of what appears to be a small local niche business: Princess day care. You can send your kids to a day care centered entirely around princesses. I winced when I entered the building. Anyway, they do hosted tea parties on the weekend. Chilkoot was the only boy, and he was pointedly ignored by the staff. To the point of serving all the little girls tea and cupcakes with gaudy ceramic dishes, while Chilkoot sat blithely on the other end of the table with nothing. I captured the employee who seemed to be running things to ask, “Are you going to serve my son?”

“Well, the reservation was only for nine.”

Well, the reservation was actually for seven, and they had no problem accommodating the addition of two girls to the party (at a likely materials cost of 75 cents total). But a boy? Nopers. I didn’t blow up. Maybe I should have. The depth of poorness of customer service is breathtaking.

False Alarm Mom harangued them into giving him a cupcake on a paper plate with a beverage in a paper cup. Later, she called to talk to the owner/manager, who had shitty excuses and I think gave her some money back or something.

They will receive none of my business (not that it was likely), and certainly no recommendations from me.

On the bright side — the young lady I talked to could have been a perfect young Angela — looks, manner, and attitude were all in perfect alignment. It was recognizable before the little conversation about my son.


Posted by snaotheus

1 comment

“Stay tuned for the next installment in the ongoing saga of snaotheus’ skeletal system’s attempts to wrest control of his body from his brain.”


The malfunctioning brain’s efforts to wrest control of the body from the more reasonable parts isn’t all that much different, is it? I’m still waiting for a spare-parts store, where you can drive in and get whatever body-part replacement you need. For a reasonable price. And modular design.

Welcome home!

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